Over the past several years, following its transformation into a pedestrian-only plaza, I’ve seen midtown Manhattan’s Duffy Square turned into a showcase where all kinds of creatures can strut their stuff; Batman, the Naked Cowboy, the African-American Naked Cowboy, the Naked Cowgirl. But a couple of days ago, just in time for the end of the playoffs, came one in the plaza’s latest series of street sculptures.
At first, I thought I had never seen anything like it. But the more I reflected, the more I felt a startling sense of familiarity with this being. He had actually been appearing on my TV screen throughout the New York Yankees’ series with the Detroit Tigers—even earlier, as a matter of fact, with the Bronx Bombers’ series against the Baltimore Orioles. He looks like he’s without a cerebellum or a backbone.
This being the month of Halloween, my theory is that he took demonic possession of the heart of the Yankee lineup—not just the inevitable A-Rod, but also Robinson Cano, Curtis Granderson, Nick Swisher, and Co. It seems as logical an explanation as any other why a team that terrorized American League pitching in the regular season could, except for the one four-run late-inning outburst against beleaguered closer Jose Valverde, score only a measly two runs over four games against Tiger pitching.